Is the pain worth the poetry?
Is the pain worth the poetry?
I feel in control when I’m out of control.
My soul writes down the words before my mind admits them. Before my heart spits them out.
I’ve got all these wasps floating around in my stomach?
Are they even real?
sssh. don’t aggravate them!
It’s a done deal. It’s got your nasty seel.
Where do I go when I don’t belong anywhere?
When I belong everywhere.












